


Dark Strokes

by darklingbooks



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, re-imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:00:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9641711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darklingbooks/pseuds/darklingbooks
Summary: What if the Darkling had successfully taken Alina in the chapel? What if the Darkling actually won?





	

1 

The girl with the white hair sat staring out the window. It wasn’t an unusual circumstance, but it always gave the raven haired boy a bit of a chill. It had been three months since he’d finally gotten her, he was more than a little surprised at how easy it had been-and even more surprised that her dumb little friends hadn’t made a try for her yet. 

“Do you only know how to stare out the window?” The dark haired boy said, from his appearance alone one would never guess this man was actually over one hundred years old. History debunks it, and only those closest to him even know this small fact.

The girl turned, her brown eyes searching his pale face slowly, it took a moment of careful staring at the girl’s face for the boy to realize she was shakily clutching a piece of paper. It was a light cream color, torn a bit at the edges but it didn’t take a moron for the boy to recognize the double eagle seal of Ravka.

“Is that little mutt Nikolai trying to reach you?” He scoffed incredulously, moving to snatch the letter from her, but all too quickly a ball of light was in her hand. 

“Actually, Nikolai is dead. It’s all your fault, Aleksander.” Her voice stung, more than he'd ever care to admit.

It took all of his willpower not to flinch, he loved the way his given name rolled off of her lips, but he quite hated it when she spoke it that way. His eyes narrowed and he became successful at snatching the paper from her this time, his eyes quickly flitting over the words before he promptly tore it up, an anguished cry left her throat as she lunged for the scraps, and right into his arms. 

He held her close, holding her head to his chest as she fought viciously to get away. After a few minutes she began to stop, sobs wracking her entire body. “We have a meeting soon Sankta Alina. You best get ready.” 

With hardly another sound, he swept out of the room, leaving the girl standing there staring at the tiny pieces of paper flung about the room. Oh how she wished she hadn’t agreed to go with him.

-

Aleksander Morozova paced quickly back and forth in the throne room of the Grand Palace. His shoes making the smallest squeak as he turned to pace back the other way, when he heard the door open and close lightly, his pacing stopped immediately. Alina was here. 

He tried to hold back the evil little sneer that crossed his features as she marched in, wearing a kefta made entirely of black wool. His colors. “You always looked much nicer in black than in that stupid Etheralki blue.”

She was too tired from crying to give a proper retort so all she did was shoot him a horrible glare that would send most men running. Too bad he wasn’t most men. Goaded on by her refusal to respond, he stalked closer to her, pushing a light lock of hair away from her face. It had gone white almost immediately after their showdown in the chapel, right before she just decided to go with him. It still gave the boy a chill when he thought of that fated day. She'd thrown herself to him and they'd shared a more than passionate kiss before she decided to try to kill him. It took nearly all of his strength to subdue her and start choking the stupid little tracker boy with his darkness to make her come with him. She'd given up too easy, but with the Lantsov pup out of the way, and her time here only increasing, he'd gotten the pretty solid suspicion he'd won.

“It really brings out your hair, Sankta.” He twirled the same piece of hair between his fingers lightly before dropping it and sulking his way back to the large black throne in the center of the room, the only thing even close to its impressiveness being the white one beside it. 

The two of them had argued greatly before he finally conceded to making the throne white. He had wanted it black to show that they were united and in control of the country together. If her throne was white it would give people hope that they could still be saved. He only gave in because she threatened to kill herself and he worked far too hard to get her for that to happen. 

“When are they coming?” Alina sniffed as she sat in her own throne, casually throwing her hair behind her shoulders and crossing her legs delicately. 

“Within a few moments.” Aleksander replied, but he was only Aleksander to her. For everyone else he remained the Darkling.

His favorite part of the week was approaching, the time where a few peasants could come and make their pleas before he inevitably extinguished them. This time, however, he planned on getting Alina in on the action. 

He leaned back in his seat, crossing one long leg over the other before resting his chin in his hand, a mischievous glint coming into his quartz eyes. "Are you excited Sankta?"

She cut him a death glare, the white of her hair greatly contrasting to her dark brown eyes. "Why would I ever be excited for something you sanctioned?" 

The Darkling had to suppress the small grin threatening to break through his calm facade. She'd learned well to not fully trust him, of course this was also something he planned to change. "You should be excited because this will be your first true role as a leader with me. Together we will make Ravka great again Alina." He turned away from her, ending the conversation even though he knew she would desperately want to continue it. 

Before long one of his gray clad oprichniki came in to let him know the selected peasants had arrived. "Look bold my dear Alina, they've arrived." 

It took much searching, and a lot of bribing, but the Darkling was able to call forth one particular peasant that he knew would grate on Alina's nerves. The smallest part of him hated hurting her-made him feel like the monster he was often compared to-but the larger part of him knew it was for the best. Once she was finally in line, things would get better. As long as she still thought she held anything over him, his plans would continuously fall through. 

He watched Alina sit a bit straighter as the large oak doors opened and the first peasant walked in. She was a small woman, most likely no older than twenty five or so, and her body and clothes were clearly work worn. "State your pleas." The Darkling said with a dismissive wave, leaning back in his seat. 

As the dark haired boy relaxed, the white haired girl could do nothing but tense up. What game was he playing at exactly? She listened intently as the woman went on to explain that her part of town was never given the proper food rations-that children were starving to death because of lack of food and being overworked-Alina's heart twisted. As she was going to open her mouth to speak, the Darkling cut her off. 

"We're in a war torn country, you can't actually expect us to divert food from our soldiers to people like you, can you?" 

"If you don't feed them you'll never have more soldiers for your war." Alina was quick to fire back, sending a polite look to the now confused woman. She was probably wondering why Alina would publicly go against the Darkling, but she clearly didn't know of Alina's antics too well. 

The Darkling's quartz eyes slid over to Alina's thin frame, that small ball of light was the most he'd seen her summon in months. All he had to do was plunge the room into darkness, take out the woman, and all of Alina's outbursts would mean nothing. But he wanted her to watch, he wanted her to see just the power she could have. He settled for letting the shadows on the wall pulse lightly, increasing in size so minutely you had to stare hard to notice. "You won't have a say in this until you concede to ruling equally with me Alina, now keep your pretty little mouth closed and watch what happens to those who ask unfair demands." 

This time, he allowed the shadows to begin shooting out, tiny tendrils curling around the peasant woman's feet, a couple even dancing near Alina before joining the majority around the woman. "Wait! Moi Sovyerni! It wasn't an unfair demand-I promise!" The woman's terrified cries echoed around the room, and as his shadows grew he saw Alina try to summon her own power. 

The most she'd gotten was a ball of light a few inches bigger than her palm, and by the time Alina's complete anguish translated into her powers and burned the shadows away, all the was left of the woman was a single singed shoe. 

"You monster!" Alina cried, standing up and making her way over to the Darkling, her hair wild and tears staining her cheeks. "She just wanted to be able to feed her children!" 

"Isn't that what we all want Alina?" He held her stormy gaze for a moment before motioning his guards to let the next peasant in-the special surprise he'd set up for Alina. "Why don't you see who our newest peasant is, do you think you'll be able to help them too?" 

Alina glared at him for a moment longer before slowly turning around to face the petite but stern looking woman stood before them. A small sob forced it's way from her throat before Alina spoke. "Ana Kuya?"


End file.
